


Desperation

by Anonymous



Series: Affection, Devotion [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Android Hank Anderson, Aphrodisiacs, Asexual Hank Anderson, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Bottom Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Dom/sub Undertones, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Knotting, M/M, Marathon Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sex Pollen, Sibling Incest, Top Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There is something odd about Connor. This, the HK800 “Hank” knows.He only discovers what it is exactly after the human gets a faceful of what turns out to be an aphrodisiac. After he asks for his brother.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: Affection, Devotion [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992811
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95
Collections: Anonymous





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation in the 'verse of [Cinnamon and Spice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498332)! In case you didn't see it in the tags: there is incest here. 
> 
> There's been a significant timeskip! This is long after Connor and Nines got jobs (Connor as a detective and Nines as a CyberLife employee - maybe an engineer/designer?) and even after the peaceful android revolution. (I've edited Cinnamon and Spice so that the year is more vague - revolution still happens in 2038.)  
> I just wanted to write PWP but worldbuilding and plot snuck in... as always.
> 
> Many thanks to my friend [Wolveria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria) for beta reading! We may enable each other's sin but I have no regrets.

There is something odd about Connor. This, the HK800 “Hank” knows. He is rather certain he came to that conclusion shortly after meeting the detective, even before deviation. Before the revolution, before they became  _ real  _ partners.

There are a number of things Hank has observed about the human:

  * He can be astoundingly dogged and reckless. (Refer to Nov. 6: Chasing the human Kara Alexia and the YK500 “Alice” onto the highway. Refer also to Connor’s stubbornness in getting Hank to deviate moments from sniping the CR100 “Carl,” despite risk to himself.)
  * For someone so bold, he has many nervous habits, including playing with a coin and wringing his hands. 
  * He lives with his twin. The two are very close. _Very_ close. 
  * Connor is much more relaxed around Richard “Nines” Arkait. They are very tactile with one another. (They have embraced at every encounter, and despite the younger twin’s rigid demeanor, he does not seem to mind at all.) 
  * He and Nines have the same scent, when Hank can discern Nines’s through his scent blockers. (“We live together, Hank. It’s not that unusual.”)
  * The two of them are fiercely protective of one another. (Nines had tracked Connor to the Tower following the older twin’s abduction by HK800-60. Not surprising, perhaps, given that Nines worked at CyberLife, back then.) (Nines was the one to fire the shot that killed Hank’s double, and Hank thinks he was spared only by a whim.) (Connor then pulled Nines into a desperate embrace, whispering words Hank does not believe he was meant to hear.) (Nines held him just as desperately.)
  * Connor and Nines have shown no attraction to any other individuals. Connor does, however, take leaves for heats. Surprising, given his lack of a partner. Based on the fact that those at Jericho inform Hank that Nines does not visit to help with repairs and such during Connor’s leaves, Hank can conclude with a fair amount of certainty that the younger twin assists the elder. (It is not unheard of for family members to take care of each other during mating cycles. But with suppressants widely available, it is still… unusual. Furthermore, Connor returns from leave looking not as though he has weathered a storm of unsatisfied desire. No, he looks… healthy. Glowing, even. The implications are… hm.)



Hank has his suspicions. But he has not acted on them. After all, the two of them clearly care for each other, and Nines is, more often than not, Hank’s best bet to get Connor to rein in his recklessness. Connor is truly contrite under Nines’s reprimanding gaze. 

It isn’t until five months after the revolution that Hank’s suspicions are confirmed. 

He and Connor are chasing a lead. A number of humans have suddenly become aggressive and compelled to attack others for short amounts of time after an encounter with an unknown individual. Based on the descriptions, they seem to be different every time. Curiously enough, the height always seems to be the same, and the build is always male.

Both Connor and Hank suspect an android at work, given their ability to alter their appearance.

This is, as they discover, true. 

Connor insists on using himself as bait after working out the perpetrator’s modus operandi: cornering unsuspecting passersby in dark alleys before exposing them to something that causes the reaction in humans. 

“Connor,” Hank says warningly. “What would Nines say?”

Connor pouts. “Nines doesn’t need to know,” he mumbles. “Besides, you’re way stronger than me if I actually do get exposed.” 

All of Hank’s negotiation protocols do not manage to dissuade Connor. And that is how Hank ends up slamming the cloaked android to the ground immediately following Connor’s cry of surprise and subsequent stumble to the ground. 

Hank quickly cuffs the android to a nearby pipe before rushing to Connor. “Connor,” he says, putting a hand on the human’s shoulder, “are you alright?”

Connor blinks, shaking himself slightly. “I-I’m fine.”

“Were you exposed?” 

“I…” Connor bites his lip. “They sprayed something in my face, but I don’t feel anything… it’s supposed to be fast acting, isn’t it?”

The cuffed android chuckles wryly. “You’re lucky. I tried something new this time… if it worked, you’d be trying to bite everyone’s throat off for days. Guess I failed.” 

“Shut up,” Hank says. “You have the right to remain silent.” He pulls Connor up from the ground, and he truly does seem fine despite his apparent exposure. “Let’s get this bastard to the precinct. If anything feels off, tell me immediately.”

Connor nods, eyes downcast. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Just be more careful.” 

They get the perpetrator to the DPD station—Hank gets the android processed while Connor visits the on-site medical android. They were unable to give any conclusive results from any of the quick analysis tests, unfortunately. If the perpetrator concocted an entirely new substance, it does make sense that it’d be hard to find… Hank still doesn’t think they’re out of the woods yet. 

“Hank! You’re picking up more idioms!”

“Shut up, Connor,” Hank grouses, without heat. 

Before long, they’re back at their desks, Connor squeezing his hands absently as he skims through the files on his terminal. 

He’s nervous, clearly, but Hank keeps a close eye on him just in case. 

Soon, Connor starts tugging at the high collar of his shirt. A less usual habit, but it does happen occasionally. His heart rate is slightly elevated, his pupils are dilated— 

Wait. 

“Connor,” Hank says. 

“Is it, ah, getting kind of hot or is it just me?” 

Connor’s gaze is unfocused, Hank notices. “Connor, tell me what you’re feeling.”

“What? O-oh. It… doesn’t match what they said,” Connor mumbles, pressing a hand to his head. “I feel hot…” He tugs at his collar again, but a strange expression passes over his face and he lowers his hand without loosening it further. 

Hank thinks about how he's never seen Connor's bare neck.

He brushes the thought aside, immediately standing up and making his way around their desks to kneel in front of his partner—only to freeze as the proximity makes him aware of a spike in Connor’s pheromones. He can identify it clearly as the scent of an omega’s arousal, in addition to that odd blend of scents: hazelnut, almonds, cinnamon, mint, petrichor. The latter two are less intense in comparison, now, and Hank absently realizes that those scents may be Nines’s natural ones. 

His mind is more suddenly preoccupied with a sudden fierce need to bring Connor to safety. The part of him that’s still code and analysis observes vaguely that he must’ve developed some kind of protective instinct for Connor. Given that the other option is being overwhelmed by the urge to fuck the human, he is immensely grateful. 

“Connor. You can’t stay here.” Hank grab’s Connor’s hand just as a few other officers start throwing confused looks in their direction.

Connor stumbles as Hank pulls him up, blinking dazedly. “I… what’s…”

“The drug alters your hormone balances,” Hank says, dragging Connor out of the DPD while sending a message to inform Captain Stern of the situation. “The previous one affected the ones related to aggression. I realize now that this one affects the ones related to arousal.”

“Oh,” Connor says. 

His face is already slightly flushed by the time they’re out the door. Hank all but drags him to his autocar and guides him inside. Where to, though? The hospital? Hank’s room in the Tower would likely be unacceptable. Connor and his brother’s house?

A tug on his shirt makes him refocus on his partner. “H-Hank,” Connor says, voice rough, and Hank fears what he’ll ask of him— 

“Nines… my brother… I need him. Please…”

Suspicions solidify. Hank closes his eyes and nods. He wirelessly sets the autocar’s destination to Connor and Nines’s residence before sending a message to the younger brother.

**_HK800:_ ** _ Nines. Are you home? _

Less than a minute passes before Nines answers.

**_Nines Arkait:_ ** _ No, but I can be there in a few minutes, I’m nearby. Why? Is it Connor again?  _

**_HK800:_ ** _ Got it in one. _

**_Nines Arkait:_ ** _ Explain. _

**_HK800:_ ** _ Well. Your reckless idiot of a brother got exposed to an unknown substance, originally intended to trigger aggression. Looks like our chemistry-happy android made an aphrodisiac instead. We are currently in Connor’s autocar, heading to your residence. He asked after you. _

The “…” of Nines typing appears and disappears a few times in Hank’s visuals. 

**_Nines Arkait:_ ** _ I’ll be home shortly. _

And that’s all he sends. Hank supposes anything more isn’t necessary. 

The rest of the drive is fairly quiet. Unless Hank counts Connor’s increased panting, his soft whines, the very apparent growing bulge in his pants, despite how he tries to lift his legs up on the seat to hide it. “Nines,” he says a few times. “Nines… Nines, where…” he keens, clinging to Hank’s jacket, and Hank can do nothing but hold him, hoping his artificial scent is soothing in some way. Connor’s scent overpowers Hank’s in the small space of the car, though, and Hank is grateful he isn’t human—undoubtedly, he’d be much more affected now if he were. 

Finally, they make it to Connor’s house. Nines’s car, sleek and black, is already parked on the driveway, and Hank takes a breath to steady himself before dragging Connor out of the car. 

The human is completely quiet at this point. He leans heavily on Hank while they stumble forward.

Nines throws open the door before they even reach it, striding forward to take Connor into his arms—though it’s more that Connor throws himself onto his brother, nuzzling at his neck, breathing deeply. All of Hank’s doubts fly straight out the window.

“Nines,” Connor says, “you’re here, please, I—I need…”

Nines shivers, clutching his brother’s back. “Let’s get inside.” Without sparing Hank a glance, he sweeps Connor off his feet—Connor barely reacts, save for a hitch in his breath—and carries him through the door. 

When Nines tries to use his foot to slam the door closed, though, Hank intercepts with his own foot. 

Nines stiffens, looking back at Hank. 

“I need to keep an eye on him,” Hank says. 

“I am fully capable of taking care of him.” Nines stares at him, challenging. The scent of a territorial alpha fills the air, tinged with that trace of rain and mint. Nines must have washed off the scent blocker when he came home.

Hank doesn’t back down, though. “I can monitor his vitals more effectively than you. If urgent medical care becomes necessary, I can expedite the process of getting him the necessary help significantly.” 

Nines narrows his eyes. “Do you really want to be here? Do you realize what we’re about to do?”

“Yes,” Hank says. “I do.”

The line of Nines’s shoulders is tense, and Hank catches something that might be defensiveness, might be vulnerability in his eyes. But it’s gone in moments, and he growls out, “Fine. Close the door behind you.”

Hank obeys. He trails after them as Nines pads down the hall, murmuring quiet reassurances to Connor: “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.” 

“Nines… it’s so hot.”

“Shhh… I know, I know…” 

Hank feels like he’s listening in on a private conversation. He turns his attention to other things—their house, in particular. Hank has only been here once, finding Connor passed out on the floor in exhaustion. Nines was away, dealing with everything that was happening at CyberLife, but when he found out, he was definitely not happy about Hank hacking the door to get inside. Intruding in their territory. 

Their house is fairly large for two people. Modern and spacious, but curiously cozy with the number of couches, bean bags, and other miscellaneous soft things scattered about. Hank didn’t go into their bedrooms—rather, their single bedroom, he realizes as Nines kicks open another door to a room with a king size bed and two desks. 

As soon as Hank tries to follow, Nines growls. Hank steps back, and Nines lets up. “You can monitor from out there, can’t you?”

Hank blinks slowly. He nods. 

“Great,” Nines says. “Do that, then.” He moves to push the door closed with his foot—and then he pauses. “Are you sure you want to stay? We’ll be…”

“I’m an android, Nines,” Hank says dryly. Not that it means much—it might just be the way Hank is. Either way, “I’m really not as hung up about this as humans might be.” 

Nines exhales through his nose. “Right.” And with that, he shuts the door. 

* * *

Connor is burning.

What started as something he thought was nothing—minor discomfort, feeling slightly warmer than usual—spiraled into feeling so hot that he wants to tear his skin off. 

His heats might’ve been easier to handle, even, given that Nines usually saw them (or rather, smelled them) coming from a mile away, and could easily get Connor home to give him the relief he craves, to knot him and fill him like his body wants. 

No, this is different. Maybe it’s because it was supposed to induce aggression. All Connor knows is a very unsettling urge to tear Nines apart and sew himself inside so wholly and completely that the boundaries between them become nonexistent.

He barely manages to focus on anything, at least until he hears the door open and is met with the scent of a very territorial Nines. Then he can only focus on his brother’s scent. 

The words Nines says to Hank are nearly incoherent. Connor just tries to get as much of that scent as he can, and it’s both calming him down and driving him further into madness. 

Nines picks him up at some point. His brother is always so strong… it makes Connor feel safe. He says something, something that feels like comfort, but Connor can only mutter something about it being so  _ hot.  _ It’s hard to think.

There’s a pressure on the crown of his head, a flood of Nines’s distinct scent of rain and snow and mint, and Connor shivers. 

Nines’s voice washes over his ears—and then Hank’s, too. He didn’t leave? Some part of Connor thinks he should have left, but… everything is so much. Too much. Why would that matter, again? Hank feels safe. Like family, but not like Nines… 

Another door closing, and then he’s being placed on something soft. Something saturated with the scent of himself and his brother, familiar, safe. He’s safe here.

“Connor.” Nines’s voice is quiet, but close to his ear. “What do you need?”

Connor’s mind is sluggish. “I…” He squeezes his arms around his brother. “Y-you, I need you, please. It’s so hot.”

“Okay,” Nines says. “I’ll take care of you.” He presses a kiss to the side of Connor’s neck. Gentle, loving, but right now—right now, Connor needs  _ more.  _

Connor expresses this by grinding his hips against his brother, rubbing his aching, rock-hard length against his brother’s groin, still soft. Even after switching to much weaker suppressants, Nines has been relatively slow to start—and he very rarely initiates any of their more intimate activities. 

Nines lets out a huff against Connor’s shoulder, gripping his shoulders. “Connor,” he says, the words caressing his neck. 

“Now,” Connor says, nipping at Nines’s ear. “Need you  _ now.”  _ Already, he can feel the slick dripping out of him, staining his pants. He’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so fucking  _ horny.  _

Nines exhales shakily, but he makes quick work of Connor’s pants, throwing them somewhere off to the side. And then he’s pressing one finger in, two, then a third in quick succession, curling them  _ just  _ so and making pleasure spark through Connor’s body. That, and something base and red-hot, something that makes him surge forward, biting harshly at Nines’s neck where his collar has slipped down. A shiver wracks through his brother’s body. 

Connor growls, tugging at Nines’s shirt. “Off,” he says, voice rough.

Nines nods, and Connor pulls away momentarily to let Nines tug his shirt up and away, revealing his smooth, toned chest. The junction of his left shoulder and neck, marked by the scars of Connor’s teeth.

Connor doesn’t even give him a chance to toss his shirt somewhere before he pushes Nines to his back and bites his shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but certainly hard enough for Nines to shiver and go still.

A pleased rumble lets itself out of Connor’s throat. Seeing Nines submit to him satisfies some part of Connor that wants to take care of his brother, and it’s always a power trip to know that such a strong alpha would turn over and bare his neck to him. But right now, all Connor can think about the burning heat in him, the  _ need  _ that crawls under his skin. 

He growls, unlatching himself from Nines’s neck and nearly tearing off his pants in his impatience to get his brother inside him. Nines makes a soft sound, hands going to Connor’s biceps as his cock is exposed to the air.

Connor wastes no time in grabbing his brother’s dick, guiding it to his entrance, and sinking down with a low moan. Nines’s dick nearly painful as it splits him open, despite the excessive slick dripping down his thighs. Connor clenches his hands on Nines’s shoulders, breath hissing through his teeth, watching as Nines’s eyes flutter shut. A shaky breath escapes his brother, and the hands on Connor’s arms tighten as he bottoms out.

Even after years of getting fucked by his brother, Connor needs a moment to adjust. Nines feels so deep it almost feels like he’s in Connor’s throat—he’s just so  _ big,  _ big enough that he fills him up completely, big enough that he brushes against Connor’s prostate with every movement. 

But only a few seconds pass before Connor starts to move, lifting himself up and sinking back down in jerky, desperate movements, sparks of pleasure shooting through him. Nines is usually quiet during sex, heavy breaths the primary indicator of his pleasure, but Connor enjoys every moan he can pull from his brother—as he does now, a soft sound escaping Nines, his hips lifting up slightly to meet Connor’s movements.

Connor, on the other hand, can barely hold back the sounds he makes, and he doesn’t bother trying. “Hah, hnn, hh,” he hears coming out of himself, breathy sounds punched out of him as he bounces on his brother’s dick. 

It’s not enough. It’s just not enough. He crashes his lips against his brother’s, plunging his tongue inside and plundering his brother’s mouth. Nines makes a quiet, breathy sound, letting himself be taken, but— 

_ “Fuck me,”  _ Connor says, a grating whisper against his brother’s mouth.

Nines shivers, and the next thing Connor knows, he’s being pushed back. Nines slips out of him, slick rushing down Connor’s legs as he does, and Connor makes a frustrated groan, grabbing at his brother’s arms. 

Then Nines practically picks him up and flips him over, hiking his hips up before thrusting back inside, the slap of skin against skin obscene but nothing in comparison to Connor’s loud,  _ “Ah!”  _ torn from deep within his throat. 

“Mnn,” Nines sounds, gripping Connor tightly around his hips. And then he pulls back—rams in forcefully, then again, then again, almost every thrust punctuated with a quiet grunt or a heaving breath. 

Connor grips the pillow his face is smushed against with one hand and the headboard with another, gasping, “ah, ah, hah,” as Nines pounds into him harder, faster. His sight grows blurry and he feels so wet and obscene, slick dripping down his thighs, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth.

Before long, Connor starts to feel Nines’s knot. His brother’s pace stutters and a hand slides up to press the back of Connor’s neck. “Connor,” Nines says roughly, not stopping his thrusts, and Connor realizes he’s bent down as the words puff over his neck. “Ah, mm, Connor…”

Connor keens, words failing him. He lifts the hand gripping the pillow to make an awkward grab for his brother’s head, pulling him closer to his neck, to his mark. 

Nines seems to get the idea, because he shifts his grip and hovers over Connor’s exposed neck—his Connor's dress shirt has long slipped down, messy and undone from their activities. His other hand slides to Connor’s dick, pumping it as he snaps his hips in harder, chasing a release, until the knot finally pops in to stay and Nines sinks his teeth into Connor’s shoulder. 

It’s enough to send Connor over the edge, and he comes all over their bedsheets, mind whiting out at the pain, the pleasure, the  _ connection.  _

But when he comes back down, he still burns. Nines clings to him tightly, teeth still in his skin, dick still inside his hole, still filling him with warmth and that fullness that Connor can never get enough of. He feels warm now, but he still hasn’t lost that  _ hotness.  _ He’s still achingly hard. 

Connor shifts, and both of them fall to their sides in an awkward heap. The tug of Nines’s knot in him is painful but inconsequential. Nines tends to be out of it for quite a bit after he knots Connor, and his only response is to let out a muffled moan and continue clinging to him. Connor, on the other hand, immediately starts pumping himself, gritting his teeth as he tries to bring himself to completion yet again. 

With Nines filling him up so much, it doesn't take long. Connor spills himself over the bedsheets, gasping as that burning need is satisfied—but only for a moment, because he’s  _ still _ hard, still burning, and he squeezes his length tightly, wringing out another, and another, until Nines finally groans on Connor’s fourth orgasm, unlatching his teeth. Connor hadn't even noticed the pain.

“Connor,” he says blearily, “Wh…”

“It’s not enough,” Connor whines, pumping himself harshly, unable, unwilling to stop, “Nines, I-I can't,  _ please!”  _ He chokes out a sob as he comes for the fifth time, coating his already-messy hand even more. 

A gush of warmth fills him as he clenches around his brother’s twitching dick, more of Nines’s come spurting inside him. Nines moans, squeezing Connor’s chest and pressing his forehead to the back of his neck. “Connor—”

Connor makes a frustrated sound before using one hand to haphazardly gather some of the leaking slick and cum from his thighs, reach back, and shove a finger inside his brother’s hole. 

“Ha-aah!” Nines jerks, twitching as Connor swirls his finger in the wet heat.

The angle is awkward, but Connor still manages to insert another finger and crook his fingers in a way that makes Nines cry out a broken sound, arching his back and somehow pushing himself even deeper, another gush of come flooding Connor’s insides. 

They’d discovered in the past that Nines’s knot goes down faster if he’s stimulated further. That said, it gets to be a lot very quickly, but Connor is relentless as he shoves another finger inside. Nines lets out gasping breaths and stifled moans, shaking as Connor fingers him. Connor can feel him coming in thick, warm bursts, filling Connor so fast that it grows uncomfortable. He continues squeezing himself even as he fingers his brother, and all he can focus is on the relief that the stimulation brings—but it’s still not enough.

“C-Connor, hnm, it’s too much,” Nines manages. “Ah!” He jerks against Connor’s back as Connor shoves his fingers in deeply, and gets another burst of come in reward.

“Sorry,” Connor says, eyes screwing shut. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, but he can't stop, can't help himself, even when he feels Nines’s tears from where his brother is pressing his face to his shoulder, even when Nines’s gasps turn to whimpers and whines. 

Connor manages to come two more times before Nines’s knot finally deflates enough for Connor to pull himself off of his brother’s still-leaking dick. A gush of come spills out of his hole as Nines slips out, and he feels regretful that he can't hold it all in. 

Nines clings to his back, a quiet whine escaping him, and Connor turns around to see his brother’s face, screwed up and covered in tears, teeth still a little bloody from biting Connor. 

Something in Connor's heart clenches at the sight, breaking through the haze of heat, and he takes Nines's face into his hands to press sloppy kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. “I'm sorry,” he murmurs shakily against sweat-coated skin. “I'm sorry, Nines…” 

Nines clings to where Connor’s shirt still hangs loosely off of him, pressing his nose to Connor's neck and breathing deeply. He’s trembling, Connor realizes, but the tremors ease as Connor runs a hand through Nines’s hair, still murmuring apologies. His own hands are starting to shake as the lack of stimulation makes the heat in him rise up once more, burning in his bones. But he doesn’t want to hurt Nines… 

“It’s okay,” Nines says, cutting through Connor’s thoughts. His voice is hoarse. “It’s okay, Connor. Do what you have to.” He lifts his face from Connor's neck and kisses the corner of Connor's mouth.  _ “Take me.”  _

And with that, Connor's restraint snaps. He shoves Nines to his back and plunders his mouth, shoving his tongue deep inside. Nines moans softly, hands roaming across Connor’s back, but Connor doesn't waste too much time before breaking away to sit up. He pulls Nines’s legs apart, gathering more slick from his dripping hole to lube up his dick and then lining himself up with his brother’s entrance. Nines’s cock is only half-mast, come still drooling out of the tip, and Connor chokes out another apology. He’s not giving Nines a chance to recover at all. But he can’t help himself as he sheaths himself inside his brother’s tight heat in one forceful motion. 

Nines jerks, whimpering, more tears spilling out of his eyes as Connor sets a brutal pace, snapping his hips in and out, in and out, the slap of skin against skin loud in their room. Nines lets out soft gasps at every thrust, along with the occasional moan, while Connor doesn't bother holding back his grunts of exertion. 

It’s not the first time Connor’s fucked his brother, but it’s still as thrilling as it was the first time despite the drug-induced haze over his mind. Nines is so tight and hot and it doesn't take long for Connor to come, shoving himself deep and spilling into the twitching hole. Nines moans quietly, cock twitching as more come spurts out, adding to the growing mess on his chest. 

And yet, Connor is still hard. It’s almost painful, and he sobs even as he lifts up one of Nines’s legs and resumes thrusting. Nines didn't seem to expect it, because his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bedsheets, eyes going wide, mouth dropping open.

Connor comes again. Then he pulls out, turns Nines over, and fucks him from behind until he comes again, and again, then he wants to see Nines’s face, so he turns him back over. His brow is furrowed and he looks dazed, but kisses back when Connor steals his lips, even as Connor hikes his brother’s legs over his shoulders and enters him again, pounding into him, each thrust squelching with all of his come, until he spills into his brother yet again. 

He loses count of the number of times he takes his brother, but soon Nines is hard again, and his whimpers turn to moans. Connor pulls out of his brother, come gushing out, and presses gentle kisses on his face. Connor feels—close to  _ something.  _ He’s not sure what, but it compels him to sit on Nines’s length, piercing himself yet again, filling himself with his brother. 

Nines’s heavy breaths are colored with exhaustion, but he still shifts his hips up to meet Connor at every bounce, shaking hands gripping Connor’s thighs.

“Nines, Nines, Nines,” Connor chants as he splits himself open again and again, careening towards a precipice, until finally,  _ finally,  _ he comes one more time, mind going blank, cock spurting out a weak burst of come even as Nines moans, as his knot ties them together and warmth starts to fill Connor up yet again.

Connor collapses in a heap on his brother, finally satisfied. All he can feel now is a warm buzz in his nerves, and he buries his face in his brother’s neck, breathing in the smell of snow and rain, of mint and so much sex. 

Nines doesn’t respond at all, though, and Connor lifts himself on shaking arms to see—Nines’s face smoothed out in what Connor can only attribute to sleep. 

A weak laugh escapes Connor. They fucked so hard that Nines passed out. Connor will have to make it up to him later, somehow. 

For now, he settles on laying on his brother’s chest, both of their breaths and heart rates slowing down. Connor soaks in the warmth, the satisfaction of being filled for the second time today. 

He closes his eyes, letting himself drift. 

* * *

Hank waits until ten minutes pass. After all the sounds have stopped, that is. He takes the time to grab two glasses of water.

Connor’s vital signs seem to be normal, now, as far as Hank can tell from here. Well, as normal as they can be after having intercourse for three hours and twenty-eight minutes. He expects that they're both dehydrated and exhausted. 

Hank’s preconstruction programs were not particularly kind to him this whole time, fragmented images of what Connor was doing with his  _ brother _ flickering into his display. He’s not sure what to make of it. 

Still, now that they’re… done… Hank carefully opens the door. The thick scent of sex assaults his olfactory sensors, but he ignores it in favor of observing the scene. 

Clothes, pillows, and blankets have been strewn all over the floor. The bed is stained with excessive amounts of semen, slick, and sweat, and Hank absently calculates how much water they would need to recover from dehydration. Speaking of  _ them,  _ there Connor is, lying on top of his brother. Both of them are completely naked, and Nines, completely unconscious, still looks to be penetrating Connor. 

Who is now staring at him, wide-eyed. “H-Hank!” Connor tries to move, only to wince as the change in position likely tugs at the knot. “Ff-fuck,” Connor says hoarsely, laying back down on his brother. “Why are you…”

“I need to make sure you’re alright, Connor.” Hank steps forward, offering one of the cups of water. “Based on my scans, you are very dehydrated. Drinking water now would considerably improve how you feel later.” 

Connor groans, face flushed. “Did you really have to come in while we’re still like this?”

“From a practical standpoint, you would benefit from my intervention. I need no further reason.” He comes to stand by the bed, placing one of the cups on the bedside table. 

“Mother hen,” Connor grouses, but obediently lifts his head up when Hank brings the cup closer and cradles the back of his head to help him drink. The human finishes the cup quickly, sinking back down against his brother's chest once he does. 

Hank touches the back of Connor’s neck, thumb behind his ear. Temperature seems to be dropping to normal levels. He takes one of Connor’s limp hands. It’s covered in various fluids. Hank lifts it up and sticks one of the fingers in his mouth, activating the sanitizing fluids. 

“What are you—ow!” Connor twitches as Hank activates a needle in his mouth to take a blood sample, removing Connor’s finger as he processes the data. Connor gives him a bewildered look.

“Blood sample,” Hank explains. “I have sanitizing fluids in my mouth.” The results come back—all levels seem to be normal. 

“Who the hell in CyberLife thought it was a good idea to put that in your mouth,” Connor mutters.

“I can find that out for you,” Nines mumbles. 

Connor blinks. “Nines, you're awake?”

“Mm. What the hell are you doing here, Hank?”

“To check on Connor.”

Nines hums. 

“And you.”

Nines blinks his eyes open. “Me?”

“Yes.” Hank picks up the other cup of water. “This is for you.”

Nines looks at him almost suspiciously, but he carefully sits up so that Connor’s sitting in his lap, still attached. He takes the cup in his hand, but Hank doesn't let go, given how much his hand is shaking. He just helps guide the cup to Nines's mouth, where he, too, swallows it down quickly. Once Hank removes the cup, Nines wraps his arms around Connor, burying his face against his brother’s bare shoulder, even as he watches Hank with narrowed eyes. 

“As far as I can tell,” Hank says, “the drug has run its course. We will likely want to extract the perpetrator’s laboratory location from him in order to confiscate the materials and properly analyze all the substances.”

Both Connor and Nines hum, the former resting his head on top of Nines's. 

“Given that those exposed to the other drug did not experience lasting effects, we can hope that the same is the case for you, Connor.”

“Mm,” he responds. After a moment: “Do you really not care that we’re—brothers? And that we do this…?”

Hank takes in the way they hold each other. Cling to each other, really, as their stress levels tick up. He takes in the scars on their necks, and the fresh marks on Connor’s. He takes in the way they seem ready to protect each other from Hank. 

“You love each other,” Hank says, “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Clear relief washes over Connor’s face, and even Nines seems to relax slightly, tension easing. 

“Now get some rest. You’ve been banging each other for hours.” He pushes them gently to their sides and bends down to lift the blanket off the floor, shaking it a bit before laying it on top of them and tucking it around their joined bodies. 

Both of them are blushing fiercely, Nines completely hiding his face in his brother’s shoulder while Connor just suffers. “I was under the influence of a drug,” he defends. 

“Yeah. So rest.” Hank reaches up and pats both of their heads, and both of them blink at him in surprise. 

It's… endearing? Is that the word? What an interesting emotion. 

“I'll be around,” Hank says. “Just get some rest.” 

Connor nods, “Thank you, Hank,” he says, and the gratitude in his words is nearly palpable. 

“Yeah, yeah. Later.” Hank leaves the room, but lingers outside the door after he closes it.

“You okay?” Hank hears. Connor's voice, quiet.

A hum in response. “Sleepy… tired. What about you? Better?”

“Mhm. Sorry for, um…”

“It’s alright. I'm okay, Connor.”

“Mmm.” A pause, and then: “He doesn't hate us. He really seems… okay with us. I'm glad.”

And after a moment: “Me, too.”

Something flutters in Hank’s thirium pump, and he shakes his head. These humans… they’ll be the death of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Look... I find desperate sex to be Very Good. I'm also weak for vers/switch Connor and Nines, with Nines tending to a more submissive side (only for Connor, though). Subverting omegaverse gender roles, hooray! He's just Soft and Connor likes to take care of him. 
> 
> Also: despite this series being in the collection of shame and shyness, I'm honestly very happy with it. I also have a vague idea of a plotline regarding what happened during "game events," but I'll probably only outline it in horny oneshots and leave the rest to your imagination pfft  
> If you want to ask if they fucked during the events of the revolution, the answer is yes. of course they did. Connor is horny as hell and Nines may be on the ace spectrum but he loves him to bits. I mean, Connor loves Nines to bits too, but my point stands. 
> 
> Also: Android Hank just gives no shits sjdhdjhd he might actually be very asexual? It just somehow happened. He literally Does Not Care  
> About sex, that is. He cares about these two fools.


End file.
